Collapse
by Bowtiesandgracenotes99
Summary: Danny Phantom is the hero of Amity Park, but how will he handle it when his parents get harder on him, his grades slip even further, the bullying gets worse every day and his friends all but abandon him? This takes place in the middle of Double Cross My Heart, but is inspired by My Brother's Keeper. Rated T for depression, self-harm and violence.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello everyone! I'm excited for this story. There will be some depression and SI in this, possibly some violence. You've been warned. Reviews are appreciated! I love constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: Okay, so obviously I don't own Danny Phantom.

On with the story! Enjoy!

* * *

I phased through the wall of my bedroom and wasted no time in collapsing on my bed.

Every fibre of my being screamed in white-hot agony.

Tonight was one of the worst nights yet. The ghost attacks came relentlessly, one after another. I'd gotten a gash that ran the length of my right leg and a nasty burn on my stomach from Skulker, as well as a myriad of cuts and bruises on my back and arms. To make matters worse, my parents had given me another harshly worded lecture earlier on my plummeting grades and unfinished chores. To top it all off, Sam had kissed Gregor the night before, and with all the ghost activity I hadn't had the time to keep an invisible eye on them again. Who knows what they did without any adult supervision at all, alone in Sam's huge house?

Okay, I know it was wrong to spy on her, but I really only did it because Gregor's obviously involved with the Guys in White. I only did it for Sam and Tucker's safety, not to mention my own.

I glanced at the clock with bloodshot eyes. 1:48 AM. In about five hours school would be starting. I lay still and silent, until the physical pain subsided to a tolerable level and I slipped into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The next morning passed in an incomprehensible blur. I vaguely remembered a half-eaten apple and a lukewarm shower; a distracted flight to school and three classes passing, the subjects of which by lunchtime were muddled so badly that I couldn't tell the Pythagorean Theorem from Hamlet. I trudged over to the table where Sam, Tucker and I normally sat. Tucker was already there and it was apparent that he noticed the fatigue on my face.

"Woah, you don't look so good. Were you out late again fighting ghosts? Sam and I have told you a thousand times now to call us when you have fights so we can help you!"

I know that Tucker didn't really mean to tick me off, but I couldn't control my sarcastic comeback.

"Gee, thanks Tuck, hadn't noticed that I looked like absolute crap today until you pointed it out. Let's just face it, you and Sam are far too busy to help me, you have your technology and homework and Sam is always with her precious Gregor." I spat Gregor's name out, as if it brought a repulsive taste to my mouth.

"Dude, what's got you so upset and angry these past few days? You know I'm always willing to help, even if it IS really late at night. We're friends, remember?" Tucker said, attempting to lift my spirits. It was to no avail, however, because as soon as the words had left his mouth Sam appeared, waltzing over to the table like a fairytale princess. That was something you definitely would not see her do every day. "Hey guys, what's up?" she asked, uncharacteristic cheer permeating her tone.

I was certain this out-of-character behavior had something to do with Gregor, which didn't help my mood in the least. I sat there for ten minutes while she and Tucker chatted, barely touching my sandwich, until she noticed something was up.

"Hey Danny, you okay? You haven't said a word all day!"

"I'm fine," I replied, tension in my voice. "So, uh...do anything fun last night?" I attempted to change the subject. I doubted she truly wanted to talk about my problems, and besides, I wanted to find out what she and Gregor had been up to.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, just hung out."

"With Gregor? You've been doing a lot of that lately. Last night, night before that, night before that..."

Tucker, who knew about my spying...er...precautionary actions, leaned towards me and whispered, "I wouldn't do that!"

I ignored him. I was going to investigate Gregor until he was proven innocent.

"Why is that any of your business?" Sam retorted. Typical Sam. At least she wasn't a fairy princess anymore.

I leaned closer to inspect her. She backed away, visibly growing more irritated by the second. "What are you doing?" she asked defensively.

In hindsight, opening my big mouth probably wasn't the best decision at that point, but of course, I had to.

"I don't know," I said with the same air of nonchalance that she had answered my first question with,"just, ah, checking for dimples...pimples...spaghetti sauce."

It took her a moment to process what I'd said, but when she did, all hell broke loose.

"Spaghetti...were you SPYING on me?"she asked, the rage in her eyes apparent to even the most clueless. Yeah, definitely not my best idea.

Of course, Tucker would choose this opportunity to speak up. "I told you it was a bad idea to spy on her."

I shot him a dirty glare. "Niiiice."

"You used your ghost powers to SPY on me? You've really crossed the line!" Sam looked beyond ready to blow. She stood, hands clenched angrily into fists, glaring at me. If looks could kill, I'd have been a full ghost.

"Not you! I was spying on Gregor. He's so obviously working with the Guys in White!" I stood to my feet as well. She didn't know who she was swapping spit with. He could be and probably was dangerous, and if she didn't want to believe that, then I was going to have to make her.

"Oh, so that's it? The only way a boy could like me is if it were part of a plot to get you? Hah, ego much?" she yelled, irked beyond words. I was at a loss for words. I didn't mean any of this that way, and I sort of felt bad now. But it didn't matter, because as if things couldn't get any worse, the devil himself appeared in the form of Gregor.

"Hey Sam, you want to-"

"Whatever it is, YES!" she interrupted, and with that she stormed off, dragging him away from us.

"I think I can guess the answer, but how'd it go last night?" Tucker questioned, the apprehension in his voice obvious.

I sat down. "Well, I got hit in the face with a rock, Gregor kissed Sam, and the Guys in White attacked again, so there's gotta be a connection between them and Gregor!" I relayed, frustrated.

The connection between Gregor and the Guys in White apparently didn't bug Tucker in the least, as his next question was, "Woah, hold up. Gregor kissed Sam?"

Just hearing it pained me. "Yeah, but apparently that's none of my business."

"Tell you what," Tuck said, in what seemed to be a last-ditch effort to make me feel better. "Since you get attacked every time you get close to Gregor, I'm gonna tag along with Gregor and Sam. I'll be your mole!"

I perked up just slightly at this statement. "Really? To protect Sam?" I inquired.

"That, and Gregor rocks! Plus, you're my best friend, and I've gotta watch your back, too, right?" he said, before walking off and leaving me sitting alone.

I felt a little better, but then his remark about how cool Gregor was brought me back down. I had the feeling that this wasn't going to turn out as well as I'd hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, between fighting the Box Ghost and warding off Technus, I decided to call Tucker just to check on how things were going.

His report really wasn't much help. He actually sounded like he was having fun. Feeling a little betrayed, I hung up and let him get back to his movie or bowling or whatever they were doing.

Together.

Without me.

It stung a little. Okay, it stung a lot.

The ghosts seemed to have ebbed for the evening. I normally would have gone to Sam or Tucker's place for the remainder of the night to hang out, but I obviously couldn't do that now. My curfew wasn't for 30 more minutes, so I wandered the town in ghost form, which was a bad idea. A little boy about four or five years old screamed in fear when he saw me, and his mother glared at me with hatred before scooping him up and swiftly walking in the opposite direction. I sighed, dejected. A lot of people in this town still thought of me as a threat, a menace.

Maybe I was just a menace.

I transformed back to human and headed home, trying to be on time for once. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Spectra appeared.

"Ahh, ghost child! My walking spa treatment! I could sense your misery from five blocks away!" she hissed evilly before firing an ecto-blast. I transformed back to ghost and counteracted her blast, one second too late. It hit me square in the chest, sending me flying back a good twenty yards.

"Hah!" Spectra laughed spitefully, "you fail at being a human, but you also fail at being a ghost! So which are you, a ghost trying to fit in with humans, or a creepy little boy with creepy little powers?"

She took my silence and icy glare as an invitation to further taunt me.

"You are both! You are neither! You're a freak! No one cares for a thing like you!"

I'd had it, but as I prepared to fire an ecto-blast she vanished into thin air.

"Great, idiot. You let her get away AGAIN. She was right, you fail at being a human AND a ghost," I thought to myself.

That was when I looked at my watch and realized that, one, I was still on the opposite side of town from my house, and two, I had about three seconds to get home before I received yet ANOTHER lecture on the importance of being punctual, along with a few extra chores, no doubt.

I flew my fastest, but of course I was five minutes late anyways. I walked in on my parents discussing my ghost half in terms of catch-and-destroy.

"Maddie, let's capture that ghost kid with the Fenton Thermos and then rip it apart MOLECULE BY MOLECULE!" I heard my dad yell enthusiastically. Then came the more level but no less excited voice of my mother. "But Jack, don't you want to perform experiments on it before destroying it with-DANNY FENTON, I HEAR YOU. COME HERE THIS INSTANT."

Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. I could tell from the tone of her voice, this was not going to be pretty.

I slowly slid into view of my parents, who were standing in the kitchen with furious looks on their faces.


	3. Chapter 3

"Daniel Fenton," my mother began in an eerily calm tone of voice, "please explain, in excruciating detail, why you have broken curfew ONCE AGAIN!"

Oh, well, you see, Spectra showed up and tried to kill me, along with lowering my already borderline self esteem and I just got strung up trying to capture her. AGAIN. Oh, and did I mention I'M the ghost kid?

Hah, yeah right.

I managed a weak, "Uhh, I just lost track of time. Really sorry, it won't happen again."

"You bet it won't happen again," my dad glared at me. Man, I was getting a lot of glares today. "You're grounded, mister! The only places you're going are school and this house, until we say otherwise!"

"Yes, sir," I lamely mumbled as I dragged myself up to my room. It wasn't as if I had any friends to do anything with for two weeks, anyway. I stopped in Jazz's doorway, daring to hope that she could comfort me, but then I remembered she had gone to a friend's house to study and wouldn't be back until a lot later that night. Figures that my parents wouldn't enforce a curfew for their kid that DIDN'T have to

fight ghosts. I sighed and plopped on my bed, exhausted. Shouts from my parents' arguing drifted upstairs, and without realizing it I let two tears roll down my cheeks. Wonderful, now I was crying, like a baby. I tried to stop myself, but only succeeded in making myself cry even more. Pretty soon I was all-out bawling, and aching for relief.

It was only a matter of time before I'd turn to this.

Feeling as if my soul were detached from my body, I silently got up and went into the bathroom that Jazz and I shared, picked up my shaving razor, and darted back to my room.

For a second, I faltered. Was I really going to do this?

"Come on, Fenton. Don't be such a baby. Just do it." I told myself.

I put the razor to my creamy white wrist and dragged it down in one quick slash.

The pain took a couple seconds to register, but then I saw the thin line of blood forming where I'd cut myself and felt the odd sense of relief I'd been craving.

The tears slowly subsided as I slashed again, two, three, ten times. I finally stopped crying and cutting, not caring where I bled as I drifted off into dark dreams.

* * *

The next morning, I almost didn't remember the events of the previous night. However, when I opened my eyes to the dark red gashes across my wrist, I snapped right awake. Oh no, there was blood on the mattress..on the floor...on my clothes. I decided I'd worry about that later, and that I'd worry about cleaning my self-inflicted wounds first. I stood up, feeling a bit dizzy, and raced to the bathroom. I managed to get the dried blood off in the shower without reopening most of the scars, but I had accidentally reopened one and it was bleeding pretty badly. I bandaged it and some of the more violent cuts, cleaned up the bathroom of all traces of my blood, and headed back to my room to get ready for school, only to be met outside by none other than Jazz.

If she were to find out, it'd be a one-way ticket to the school psychologist, with some heavy-duty psychoanalyzing on the side by Jazz herself.

I hid my wrists as best I could and hoped she wouldn't ask.

"Morning Danny! Sleep well?" She asked cheerily.

Good, she hadn't noticed anything was up, not yet, at least.

"Morning. Yeah, I slept well," I answered back, trying to throw her off my trail.

"Great!" she replied, "so um, do you want me to drive you to school or-"

"I can take myself," I cut her off. Yeah, that was kind of a jerk move, but the less time I spent with her, the less likely she would be to suspect something.

With that, I walked back to my room and put on a long-sleeved sweatshirt to hide the bloody bandages. Lucky for me, it was late September and getting chillier by the day. I began cleaning up the blood on my sheets and floor and getting ready for school, praying that no one would notice me.

* * *

AN: I don't know why I'm so obsessed with making Danny depressed...must be my dark side. :P anyways, if you like this fanfiction be sure to let me know. Also, feel free to criticize, but please be kind about it. Anyways, have a nice day! :)


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Fen-turd!"

Great, just what I needed. The perfect way to start the school day.

With a sigh of defeat, I turned to face Dash, Kwan, and whatever other A-listers had come along to torture me. I so did not have the time or the patience for this.

Dash began his morning bullying routine by picking me up by the collar of my shirt and slamming me against my locker. I didn't even try to defend myself with a sarcastic comeback this time. I just looked up at him, eyes void of emotion. I guess he noticed and mistook my apathy for weakness, because in the next two seconds his fist had collided with my jaw. He must have not been in the mood, because he let me down after just a couple of punches. I started to walk off, but he grabbed my arm and I had to bite my tongue to keep from crying out in pain.

That was the arm that I'd mutilated the previous night.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? You're not getting off that easy!"

I felt a couple of scars reopen and could only hope that blood wouldn't seep through. That was the last thing I wanted, the A-list finding out and labeling me even more of a loser than I already was.

I winced in pain, which only made Dash tighten his grip on my arm. "Come on, Fen-toad, my grip isn't that strong! You're such a baby," he sneered.

"Dash, just let me go," I pleaded, sounding a lot more pathetic than I wanted to. This made him even madder, and he picked me up by my collar again and was about to throw another punch when he saw a teacher come around the corner.

He stared me straight in the face. "Fine, if you're going to be such a wuss about it. But you better watch your back, Fentonia!" he whispered before storming off. Just then, the bell signaling the start of first period rang. Greeeeeat. I was late again.

I retrieved my books from my locker and hurried to English class, but it was futile. Dash was already seated, giving me a smirk as I walked through the door, two minutes late.

"Mr. Fenton, need I lecture you once again on the importance of punctuality?" Lancer asked, obviously irritated. "No, sir," I mumbled, and made my way to my seat, but not before recieving yet another detention slip. My parents weren't going to be happy about that. I shared my first class with Sam, who was still pissed at me for spying on her. Any other day, she would have greeted me with a smile and a wave, but today she refused to even look at me. I sighed and sat down in my seat, hoping to at least stay awake and look like I was paying attention so Lancer wouldn't call me out again.

I caught Sam sneaking a glance at my wrist, and then noticed blood seeping through.

Wonderful, just wonderful, I thought to myself, and tried my best to conceal my arm from other prying eyes. I half expected her to say something, but instead she quickly looked away when she saw that I'd noticed her.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

As soon as the noon bell rang I walked to our lunch table and sat, expecting an awkward lunch period with a whole lot of angry glares from Sam. I waited for about five minutes before I realized that Sam had chosen to sit on the opposite side of the lunchroom with Gregor. I watched, disgusted, as he blatantly flirted with her and she fell for his charms, like a moth to a flame.

I forced myself to look away and tried to choke down a bite or two of my food. At least I'd still have Tucker to talk to.

Someone must have been out to get me, because two seconds later Tucker walked over to their table and plopped down as if he sat there every day. With a pang of jealousy, I remembered that Tucker was keeping an eye on Gregor and Sam for me. It still hurt, though, to watch my best friends replace me so easily.

As if on cue, the three suddenly erupted into a fit of giggles. I'd never heard Sam giggle before. Must have been nice, to be able to make her do that.

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and stared down at my unappetizing leftovers. I'd only managed two bites before I began to feel nauseated. I decided to stop trying to choke the rest of it down and just wish for the day to end already.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Shoutout to Hellbreaker, thank you for reviewing! I read part of your story and I like it so far. About your suggestion, I was actually already planning to have something like that happen later on. Great minds think alike, I suppose. For everyone else, I'll try to update consistently, but no promises. Life gets in the way sometimes. Anyways, thank you all for reading, and as always, criticism and reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

As soon as the 3:10 bell rang, I gathered my belongings and raced to my locker. Maybe I could make it out of the school before-

"Hey, Fenton!" came the voice I unfortunately knew all too well.

Oh, come on. Just once couldn't I get out of school without being harassed by this jerk?

I slammed my locker door and braced myself for the worst, but instead saw Dash simply standing by my locker, staring at me with a perplexed expression on his face.

"What do you want, Dash?" I asked, irritated. It didn't take a lot to get him confused.

"Fenton, I've been trying to figure it out all day, but I just can't piece it together. Did I make you bleed this morning...just by grabbing you? I saw some blood on my hands during first hour and that was the only thing I could think of that would have made blood get on me."

Oh no. I must have bled through the bandages onto him when he grabbed my arm and reopened the scars. I just needed to play it cool, I told myself. Dash wasn't hard to fool in the least.

"Why do you care?" I questioned, taking the defensive approach.

He thought for a minute, as if the question were remotely difficult, and said, "Cause if I made you bleed, then it means I got nasty Fen-toenail germs on me! Hey, good point Fen-toad! I don't care!" And with that, he ran off to torment some other poor student.

That's Dash, intelligent as always.

Even though I had just gotten off scott-free, part of me was upset that he had said he didn't care.

"What the heck, Fenton?" I asked myself. I knew Dash didn't care about me, so why was it upsetting me so much? It was just one more person on the rapidly growing list of people who didn't care about me.

I walked outside, the sunshine doing nothing to improve my mood. In fact, it only worsened when I saw Sam and Gregor holding hands and walking with Tucker. I missed the days when the three of us walked home together. Heck, I missed the days when they acknowledged my existence.

I did my best to mask my sadness when I walked through the door of my house. I was not looking forward to having to tell my parents about my 7:15 detention the next morning.

"Good, you came straight home." I heard my father say from the couch, not even bothering to look up from whatever he was doing or say hello. "Start cleaning the kitchen, and when you're done with that the lab will be ready for you to tidy up."

Wow. Even if he didn't know about my ghost-fighting, he had to know that I had a ton of homework every night.

"Yes, sir," I told him, treading on thin ice. I knew I'd probably be too tired to focus on homework later in the evening, but I needed to get him in a better mood in order to tell him about the detention.

I walked through the kitchen door and nearly had a heart attack. Somehow my parents had managed to dirty every single available dish in the cupboard, and what's worse, everything seemed to be covered in a green, goo-like substance. I hesitantly touched it and recoiled when it made a hissing noise. Oh, this was going to be fun.

I finished cleaning the kitchen one endless hour later and was unsurprised to find the lab in a similar, possibly worse condition. At this rate I was going to fail at least two classes. I sighed, exasperated, and got to work. This time it took two hours. Fantastic, it was 6:30 and I hadn't told my parents about the detention or even started my mountain of homework yet. I shuffled my feet as I walked back up the stairs, trying to put off telling my parents as long as possible. When I reached the top of the steps, I saw both my parents sitting on the couch.

It was now or never.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thank you to GirlOfLegend and Zinnia99 for reviewing, it made me very happy. :) Also, to HellBREAKER, I apologize for getting your username wrong in my last AN. My autocorrect keeps acting up. About your latest review, I believe at some point in the show it was mentioned that one of Danny's chores was to clean the lab, but I could be wrong on that one. I agree about it not being very smart of Jack to have him clean the green goo and the dangerous lab equipment, but you have to admit that throughout the show, Jack hasn't been the sharpest tool in the shed. He couldn't even figure out his own son was Danny Phantom. For the rest of you, I will try my best to update sometime later this week, but again, no guarantees. Enjoy, and have a wonderful day!

* * *

"Danny, that lab had better be spotless when I check it!" my dad said, stern as ever. He rose from the couch and made his way past me and down the stairs. I realized my chance. If I could tell my mom about the detention and get her to sign the slip while my dad was gone, I could possibly calm her down before he got back upstairs. That way when he found out, she'd be less angry and it might rub off on him. Besides, my mom was bound to be nicer about it than my dad. I took one last deep breath before sitting down next to her and speaking up.

"Uh, mom, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Danny," she replied. The weariness in her eyes made me regret the news I was about to bring.

"Uh, I was sort of...late to class today...and...uhhhm...I got a detention." I finished, and there was dead silence. For a second, I thought I'd put her to sleep.

After a few seconds, she finally spoke up. "Danny, I'm disappointed in you," She was as calm as ever, but I detected a large amount of irritation in her voice. "This is the third time this month and quite frankly I'm sick of it."

Just then Dad came back up the stairs and proclaimed, "The lab looks fine, Danny. So does the kitchen. I'd say you did a decent...what's going on here?" he inquired after noticing how upset mom looked.

"Danny got another detention today," she answered him curtly as she rubbed her forehead in exhaustion.

His face visibly darkened from confusion to anger, but when he spoke he didn't yell either. What he said was much worse than anything he could have yelled.

He looked directly into my eyes and said, in a steely, cold tone, "Daniel Fenton, we are beyond disappointed in you. You make horrible grades, you come home late, you get to school late, and this is the third time this month that you've gotten a detention. Jazz never does any of those things. She always tries her best, so why can't you? And don't think you're exempt from failure in the chores area either, because this is the first time in a long time that you've done an acceptable job and even then you barely passed my inspection. That's all you do, you just do enough to get by. If you want to see where that will get you in life, then that's fine by us. Just don't call us when you're living in a cardboard box on the street because you were too much of a slacker and a failure to support yourself."

I'd always known he wasn't pleased with my apparent lack of effort, but I never knew he thought that lowly of me, and it absolutely ripped me to shreds to hear him say it out loud.

I hung my head in shame and walked up the stairs to my room without a word. I figured I'd better start on my homework, although now I was debating on whether it was worth it or not since my parents thought I wasn't even worth yelling at anymore. I figured I'd better do it anyway, even if it only meant that my teachers wouldn't get angry at me the next day. I actually got a good portion of it done before I lost focus and started to cry.

I didn't even try to hold the tears back this time. It was about eleven thirty, so the rest of my family was sound asleep and completely oblivious to my sobs. I couldn't wait any longer for relief, and I finally reached for the blade that I'd stored in my bottom dresser drawer. I repeated the process of the night before, and after about ten minutes my sobs began to fade away and my vision cleared. This was so wrong of me, but it was all I had, I thought sadly.

I then noticed that there were a few drops of blood on my worksheet and a whole lot of tearstains. I panicked and tried to blow on the worksheet in order to dry it, but the stains remained. However, I had been prepared for any other messes this time, and I used a box of tissues to wipe away the rest of the blood before any more of it dripped off of my arm. There were at least twenty scars on my arm now. I winced as I bandaged the new ones with the gauze I'd swiped from our first aid kit. Finally, I finished and hobbled over to my bed, beyond ready to get to sleep and escape the current hell that was my life.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Hello everyone! I would like to thank everybody who has read this story and even more thanks to those who have reviewed. Speaking of reviews, if you'd like me to read a story you've written and review it, just shoot me a PM and I'd be more than happy to do it when I find the time. About Sportsman's review, you asked why Danny's parents berate him instead of helping him. I'd say that his parents (mainly Jack) lost their patience and were extremely cruel (because of what seems to be Danny's constant irresponsibility) in the last chapter, but they still love him. They just got frustrated and they said things they didn't mean, which everyone has done at some point. Danny's just so depressed by this point that he takes it seriously. :P oh, and thank you for reviewing. To everyone else, enjoy!

* * *

Danny, are you sure you're alright?"

My sister's question startled me so much that I spilled the milk I'd been drinking.

"I told you already, Jazz, I'm fine," I protested. I was sure that the morose look on my face suggested otherwise, but this was the third time this morning that she'd asked the dreaded question and it wasn't even 7:00 yet.

"Okay then," she answered, obviously less than convinced. She continued to study me while I ate my breakfast. I really wasn't hungry even though I hadn't eaten dinner the night before, but she made sure I finished every bite of my cereal. Once I was done, I put my dishes in the sink and exited the room, relieved to be out from under her scrutinizing gaze. That relief lasted for about two seconds, and then I collided into my parents at the bottom of the stairs.

"Danny, we need to talk to you," my mother said. At first, I expected anger and a continuation of the bashing session last night, but instead she looked almost...concerned?

My dad was the first to speak.

"Danny, we've decided that we need to apologize for last night."

I was still reeling from what he'd said to me, but he looked so remorseful that I decided to hear him out.

"Danny, I'm so sorry about what I said to you last night," he began. "I didn't mean to say those things about you and I don't believe any of what I said. I was just so frustrated. I'd been having a bad day and I let it get the best of me, but I was so wrong to act the way I did. Will you forgive me, son?"

I could tell that he meant his apology, but I still couldn't shake the ever-present weight of worthlessness from my shoulders.

"I forgive you, but you don't need to apologize. I deserved it for slacking off so much. Heck, sometimes even I feel like I'm a failure." I gave a halfhearted laugh and watched them share a worried look before my mom asked, "Danny, is there something wrong?"

"I'm fine," I insisted for the millionth time that morning. "I'd better get to detention. And don't worry, I'll come straight home after school." With that I retrieved my backpack and walked out the front door, but not before catching another glimpse of my parents' concerned faces. With an exhausted sigh, I transformed into Phantom and shot off to school as quickly as I could.

* * *

I knocked on the door of Lancer's classroom and he answered it almost immediately.

"Good morning, Mr. Fenton," he said in a not-so-enthusiastic way. And he wonders why nobody ever pays attention in his class.

"Good morning, Mr. Lancer," I answered, echoing his monotone before walking straight over to his desk and placing my completed homework on it. I figured I might as well try to make this detention a somewhat pleasant one.

He was beyond surprised at my sudden effort. He raced over to his desk, probably to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. "You...you did your homework?" he murmured, looking stupefied.

"Don't look so surprised," I told him and went to sit in my seat. Lancer now looked elated and was grading my work with the excitement that, say, Tucker would have when tearing into a Triple Nasty Burger.

I instantly saddened when I thought of my best friend. I hadn't talked to him or Sam in ages. I'd altogether given up on investigating Gregor because I knew if I continued to, Sam would get even more angry with me than she already was. I was also realizing that some of my suspicions might have been fueled by jealousy since he seemed to be taking my closest friends away. Still, I figured that if Tucker hadn't noticed anything off about him, then he was probably clean, which then segued into the fact that neither Tucker nor Sam had texted me or talked to me in two days. Sam surely wasn't still too livid to talk to me. Was Gregor really that captivating? Then again, I supposed that if they wanted to make new friends, who was I to hold them back? Still, I missed them so much...

Suddenly, Lancer's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"Mr. Fenton, what's this on your worksheet?" He held it up and I saw him pointing to where I'd bled on it the night before. It was very faint, but there were still some spots that I'd missed.

Oh, come on, I thought. I mentally slapped myself for being so careless.

I walked up to him, pretending to inspect it, when I noticed it looked a lot like ketchup. Suddenly, my excuse was formed.

"Oh that? Last night at dinner I spilled a bit of ketchup on it. Sorry, sir, it won't happen again." I lied, crossing my fingers. I shot him a wide grin, hoping to show him that everything was fine with me.

"Alright, but do try to be more careful in the future." I nodded and made my way back to my seat. I could tell he still wasn't completely persuaded, but it would have to do for now.

"Oh, and Mr. Fenton?" he spoke up, stopping me in my tracks. Now what did he want?

I turned around, forcing another smile. "If you ever need to talk to someone for any reason, please know that I am more than willing to be that someone." he finished, and I did my best not to look confused. He was a teacher! They weren't supposed to care about anyone but the football team...at least, they all acted like they didn't.

He noticed my flustered look and commented, "Don't think I haven't noticed the stress you've been under lately. I know that at times I can seem harsh when I give you detentions and call you out when you fall asleep in class, but everything I do is for your own personal good."

Yeah, right, I thought. That detention cost me what little self-esteem I had left.

"Thank you, sir," I responded, and went to sit back down. I was so tired, and my muscles hurt like nothing else. I decided I'd put my head down and try to catch some sleep before class started. There weren't very many ghosts the previous night, but the ones that did come all arrived at about 1:30 in the morning for some ghost raid and I caught most of them within the next hour. I counted that as a blessing, but I was still worn out and was sure it showed.

The first few students were starting to chatter and mill around in the hall. I slowly let myself drift off until I heard the bell ring.

A lot of people were already seated, but not Sam. I was beginning to wonder where she could be when in she strolled, obviously on cloud nine. She'd probably talked to Gregor before class and that's why she was so upbeat. As soon as she saw my face her expression changed, but instead of glaring at me furiously she looked at me with the same concern my parents had earlier that morning. Then, she proceeded to sit down and busy herself with her notebook.

Lancer actually seemed a bit perkier in class and I managed to pay attention until the very end, even if it was only to distract myself from how down I felt. Everyone was out of the room before I was, for a change. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam give me another look I couldn't quite read and then she left.

What was with everyone?


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Hellbreaker, can you read my mind or something? You seem to be almost exactly on par with where my ideas for this story have been going. Yeah, Jack was really mean at first, but he realized his mistake later on and apologized. However, the words had been said and couldn't be taken back, which is why Danny's still upset about it, plus Danny's depressed and he seriously believes that he's a failure. He wasn't being sarcastic at all when he forgave his parents. On the topic of Sam and Tucker, I definitely agree with what you said about the episode with Technus, which is why I've been thinking about whether or not I want them to show more concern and squirm a bit or not. I guess you'll all just have to wait and see. :) Thank you to everyone reviewing, favoriting, and reading, you guys are awesome. Enjoy, and have a fantastic day!

* * *

All throughout the day, I walked around feeling detached from the world around me. Everything seemed hazy and in slow-motion, which could have had something to do with how little I'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours. I didn't even flinch when Dash tripped me in the hall and everyone laughed, and when lunchtime rolled around I scarcely acknowledged my surroundings. I saw Tucker and Sam sending blatant glances my way the entire lunch period, and just when I was so unnerved that I was about to snap, they both got up and headed my way, leaving Gregor sitting alone.

They were about halfway across the room when the bell that signaled the start of fourth period rang and the exiting crowd engulfed them. I saw my chance, and made a mad dash to hide behind the trash cans until they gave up and departed to their next class. I really didn't want to talk to them. I wasn't in the mood.

Three classes and two failed assignments later found me at my locker, praying that P.E. would pass painlessly. Of course, Dash and the other jocks would appear at that very moment to let out some pent-up aggression.

Dash skipped the name-calling and went straight for the punch, decking me in the mouth and giving me a busted lip. I was too emotionally and physically fatigued to say or do anything, so I stood there and took it as all his A-list buddies jeered and laughed. By the time he was done, bruises decorated my arms and neck. He ended his physical venting session by ceremoniously picking me up, stuffing me into my locker, and slamming the door.

As I heard the sound of shuffling feet and raucous laughter get further away I felt something warm and wet slip down my face. To my surprise, it wasn't blood. That's right, I was crying after being beat up and stuffed in my own locker like the wimp I was.

I sat there for about thirty seconds in a revolting mixture of my own blood and tears when I heard voices outside.

"Danny...Danny, are you okay?"

I recognized Sam's voice, and then Tucker's.

"We were waiting for you outside the gym when Dash came in late bragging about how he'd just beaten you up. We came as quickly as we could."

There was a series of metallic clicks and I realized that Sam was trying to open the door. I hastily transformed into Phantom, turned intangible and phased out the top of the locker to hover over their heads. I couldn't face them like this, and besides, who was to say they wouldn't go back and tell Gregor all about this just so they could have a laugh at my expense?

I got out just in time for Sam to turn the dial to the last number and swing the door open, only to find me gone.

"Danny!" she shouted, "we're just trying to help! I know you're here somewhere, and you'd better come out before-"

"Sam, just calm down," Tucker interjected, then addressed me. "Danny, we're really worried about you. We've been trying to talk to you all day, but you keep on running away. Please come out so we can talk to you..."

Hah, yeah right. I had to struggle to keep from snickering out loud and blowing my invisible cover.

I'd heard enough, and I shot out of Casper High at 112 miles an hour. I had no idea where I was going; I simply knew I wanted to get away from there.

About five minutes of flying later, my ghost sense went off. I slowed and hoped to God that this would be an easy one. I was in no condition to fight for very long. I was still bleeding from Dash, and I was in even more emotional pain. Why did a ghost have to be here, now?

My answer came as soon as I saw Spectra materialize in front of me.

"Ghost child," she exclaimed, eyes wild with fire, "what have you been going through? It smells absolutely divine!"

Disgusted, I saved my breath and instead threw a ball of ecto-energy directly at her head. She dodged it with a smirk. "Hmmm, touchy subject?" she countered before firing an ecto-blast out of each hand. This knocked me sideways and kept me down long enough for her to place her still-smoking hands on my back and absorb my misery.

"Ahhhh, that's good!" she sighed, invigorated. The sadist then flew off into the distance laughing maniacally, leaving my still-smoking body in agony.

Out of nowhere I felt a sharp pain in my back, and numbness enveloped my entire body. I tried to stand, but collapsed in utter exhaustion before being trapped by something heavy, probably a weighted net of some sort. My first thought was to get it off of me, but my body refused to obey. Instead, I felt myself getting extremely drowsy.

Just as my eyelids were closing, I heard a familiar voice yell, "Maddie, we finally did it! We finally caught the ghost kid!"


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Good day to all, my wonderful readers! Thank you all for continuing to read this story, and another big thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited. This is a rather long chapter, just warning you. On with the story, and enjoy!

* * *

I opened my eyes, but I might as well not have bothered because my surroundings were bathed in pitch black.

As far as I could tell, I was strapped by my arms and legs to a metal table of some sort. When I sat up and tried to phase through the straps, I found out the hard way that they were ecto-proof.

I tried to focus on remembering how I got to where I was. So far I recalled ditching school and being attacked by Spectra, and then...oh. This was not good. My parents must have shot me with an ecto-tranquilizer dart and strapped me to the examination table in the Fenton Works lab. With a start, I realized I didn't know how long I'd been out and I frantically searched the darkness for the digital clock we kept by the staircase. Bright green block numbers read 3:03. Good, I thought, school was letting out in seven minutes. They wouldn't be missing Danny Fenton for another half-hour, which would hopefully give me enough time to-

Out of nowhere, white light flooded my vision, temporarily blinding me and making me lose my train of thought. Once I regained my vision, my mother and father came into focus. They were standing together by the stairs, grinning like they'd just won the lottery. In their case, this was better. They'd just captured the infamous ghost boy.

"Sleep well, Phantom?"

My mother had been the one to address me. Hearing her talk to me in such a foreign way was uncomfortable, like losing a tooth and having to get used to what feels like a gaping hole in your mouth.

They inched closer, their eyes full of savage-like curiosity. I could see now why everyone in Amity Park though of them as insane mad scientists. Once they neared me, they began to poke and prod me, conversing in scientific terms that I couldn't hope to understand. I sat, helpless and rigid with trepidation, until my mother reprimanded me.

"Will you relax, ghost? I'm trying to figure out where I should put this needle!"

"How about trying a vein?" I retorted. Even though she was the smarter of my two parents, she still had her moments.

"You...you have...veins? But you're a ghost! Ghosts don't need veins!" she shouted, awestruck. Then she addressed my father. "Jack, go get that formula on the table and bring it to me. I know we said we weren't going to use it until later, but I want to know more about this ghost."

My dad stumbled over various piles of junk and old equipment trying to bring my mother the questionable fluid she was planning to inject into me. It was a sickly yellow color, and it smelled of moldy cheese.

"Uhhh, Mo-I mean, Mrs. Fenton, what exactly is that?" I questioned. If it was going into my system, I had a right to know what it would do to me.

"Oh, this?" she answered, sounding innocent as she prepared the needle. "This is a formula that will infiltrate every single molecule in your miserable little manifestation of post-human consciousness," she paused for effect, "and slowly poison you until you melt into ectoplasm. Unless, of course, you answer our questions, and then there is an antidote readily available that will cure you completely."

Her cold smile sent shivers up and down my spine. The way I saw it, I now had three options. I could either hope for a chance to phase out of the lab as soon as possible, let them inject me with the liquid that could end my existence, or skip the deadly stuff and tell them my secret up front. The former's chances weren't looking so great, and decided I'd rather tell them what they were bound to find out anyways. They were already suspicious, and besides, they'd be missing Danny Fenton if he didn't show up for dinner and it was likely that they'd blame yours truly.

"Hold still, Phantom, I have to put the needle in!" my mom exclaimed, patience wearing thin. I had to tell her.

"Mrs...Mrs. Fenton? Before you inject me with that, there's something you should-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the lab door burst open and my sister came flying down the stairs. Her eyes widened at the sight of me in ghost form strapped to the examination table.

"Jazzy-pants, we're trying to experiment right now. Can you pleeeeease leave us alone for a few minutes?" my dad asked.

"Uhhhh, yeah," she said absentmindedly, eyes still wide and fixated on me. "I was just...ahh...coming down here to say...I'm home from school!"

"Well that's great, honey! And where's Danny?" my mom inquired.

Jazz visibly tensed at the question, and it took her a couple of seconds before she stammered, "Uhhh, he's...upstairs. He...he asked me to ask you if...if he could go to Tucker's and study for the afternoon. Is that okay?"

"Sure, Jazz, tell him it's okay as long as it's just to study. I was harsh on him last night, and I think he deserves a bit of freedom," my dad told her.

I took a moment to appreciate my luck at having a sister who would cover for me so readily. Jazz turned to go back up the steps, but not before mouthing "I'll get you out of this" when our parents weren't looking.

It was a nice gesture on her part, but I needed to get out of here now.

"As I was saying, Mrs. Fenton, I-"

"Oh, shut it, ghost kid!" my dad snapped.

"You have to listen to me!" I sounded too panicky for my own good. "I'm not who you think I am!"

This got their attention, and they both stopped their miscellaneous activities and stared straight at me. Now that they were finally listening, it was unnerving.

"I'm not just a ghost." My voice was shaking, and I had to force myself to breathe. "I'm...I'm half-human. Half-human, half-ghost."

The shock took a moment to wear off, but as soon as it did I was bombarded with questions and accusations.

"...how? That would be like being alive and dead at the same time...that's scientifically impossible!"

"You're lying! Prove it!"

"Who's your human half, then?"

I'd made them angry, and they wanted answers. "Th-there was an accident," I stuttered, "and yes, I-I guess you could say I'm half-dead and...and half-alive. I don't know how it happened."

"Yeah?" my mom raised her eyebrows, "Prove it. Tell us who you really are."

I took one last deep breath before finally saying, "Mr. and Mrs. Fenton...Mom and Dad...I'm...I'm your son. Danny Fenton."

"How dare you even associate yourself with our son!" my dad shouted, outraged.

"No, you have to listen to me, please! I'm-"

I was cut off with a slap to the face, courtesy of my mother.

"You can either tell us now, ghost," my mom whispered threateningly, "or we can do this the difficult way. Now, would you like to tell us who you really are?"

They were in denial. They didn't want to believe their son could be the very thing they'd always hunted. I saw no other way but to stick with my story.

"I'm Danny Fenton! Here, I'll prove it!" I yelled, forgetting I was strapped to dangerous equipment. When I tried to change back to human form, it shocked me and I couldn't complete the transformation. As if the equipment shocking me weren't enough, as soon as it ended my dad pointed an ecto-gun at my stomach and fired.

I groaned in pain and doubled over. Even in ghost form, that was going to take a while to heal. My worst fears were coming true, they weren't accepting me, they didn't love me. Not caring about looking weak, I let the tears that were forming in my eyes spill over and splatter on the sterile metallic surface of the table.

"If you think that hurt, just wait." my dad said coldly. He had no idea.

* * *

I felt my self-inflicted scars reopen when my mother grabbed my arms and demanded, "Tell us who you are!" for the tenth time.

"I've told you already," I answered her through tears, "but you won't listen."

My dad hit me on the head with the ecto-gun, causing the head wound Dash had inflicted earlier that day to open up. They could have just used the formula, but they liked this method better.

There was so much blood, it was dripping down my face and seeping through my black HAZMAT suit. I was a disgusting mess of tears, human blood and ectoplasm. I was starting to feel dizzy, but I knew my wounds would heal within a day or so. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain. They really didn't accept me, they didn't love me anymore. I knew this would happen. How could I have been so foolish? I deserved this, all of it, for hiding so much for so long.

Just as my mom opened her mouth to ask me once again who I was, my ghost sense went off.

I couldn't turn around, but my dad gasped and exclaimed, "Maddie, look! It's the Wisconsin Ghost!

* * *

AN: Poor Danny! Will he ever get out of this? Will his parents ever believe him? And why is Vlad Plasmius in the Fenton Works Lab? Find out next time!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Why, hello there! I'm glad you're still reading this story. You should review if you haven't already. ;) Cerustar, I don't particularly enjoy it but it's necessary for the story. WriterChic, cutting your wrists can't kill you in and of itself, but the blood loss from it most definitely can. Danny never quite lost enough blood to kill himself, but he did injure himself severely. And as to why it made him feel better, a lot of people who self-injure do it to feel better, believe it or not. It helps them focus on the physical pain rather than the emotional. Hope that clears things up for you! Seantriana, you're spot on! Couldn't have said it better myself. As to the rest of you, enjoy!

* * *

My dad gasped and exclaimed, "Maddie, look! It's the Wisconsin ghost!"

Vlad Plasmius circled around until he was in my line of sight with a look on his face that made my parents' anger look comical. I hated looking so vulnerable in front of my archenemy. I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it couldn't be good.

"I can not BELIEVE what you two have done! No human OR ghost deserves this kind of torture, and you'd do this to your own SON!" Vlad was so angry I could see the steam coming out of his ears.

A split second later, Jazz raced down the stairs. Upon seeing her, my parents searched her face for any sign of accusation, for assurance that Plasmius was lying. When they saw none, they were speechless.

In one swift motion Vlad freed me from the table, scooped me up bridal-style, and phased through the walls of the lab, leaving my parents frozen with the realization that I'd been telling the truth all along.

I was beyond confused at this sudden rescue. "V-Vlad? What are you d-doing? You hate m-me..." I choked, sounding weaker than ever.

"Be quiet, Daniel. Your sister called me to come get you, probably as a last resort. Nevertheless, I came as quickly as I could. Why didn't you just tell them your identity up front instead of going through all of that?"

This brought another wave of sorrow over me, and I started sobbing. "I-I tried to tell them...they wouldn't listen...they d-didn't believe me...they don't l-love me anymore."

"Nonsense, boy. Now be quiet." Vlad commanded, shaking his head and muttering something about irresponsible idiots under his breath. He started to fly without telling me where we were going, but at that point I didn't really care where we were going because my vision started getting fuzzy. The edges were tinged with blackness that slowly closed in on me until I finally gave in and let it overtake my senses, completely at Vlad's mercy.

* * *

When I woke up, I was in a surprisingly comfortable bed.

I looked around at the purple wallpaper and the luxurious furniture until I recognized the black spider backpack slung over the back of a chair. Sam, I realized, I was in Sam's room. The door opened slightly and Sam's head appeared. Once she saw I was awake, she lit up and all but screamed, "Danny! Danny, you're awake! Tucker, Jazz, he's awake!"

"Shhhh! Do your parents know I'm here?" I whispered. It was a little sad that those were the first words I'd spoken to her in almost three days, but her parents didn't like me, and I was sure they'd like the idea of me sleeping in their daughter's bed even less.

"They're on a vacation cruise. I'm home alone with my grandma, and she doesn't mind," Sam relayed, the joy never leaving her face. For someone who'd been pissed beyond belief at me for the past three days, she sure was happy to see me. "When Jazz called us a few hours ago, Grandma was more than willing to let you stay here."

"I thought you were upset with me," I said cautiously.

"Your life was in danger because of your parents!" she yelled.

Suddenly the door flew all the way open and Tucker and Jazz walked in.

"When I said I'd get you out of there, I meant it," Jazz explained, worry still lingering in her face. "I called Vlad to come get you and I called Sam to make sure it was okay to keep you here, since I was definitely not letting you stay in the same house as our insane parents."

"What made you think Vlad would actually come and save me?" I questioned. I knew Vlad couldn't care less if I lived or died, so I wanted to know his ulterior motive.

As if on cue, Vlad spoke up from the doorway. "I know that we fight, Little Badger, but I'm not about to see you killed by your own parents. That's my job," he smirked. I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

"All that matters is you're safe now, dude," Tucker spoke up.

"I came up here because all of you children need to let Daniel rest. He's suffered a large amount of shock and he needs to recuperate!" Vlad shouted before shooing everyone out. Sam and Tucker waved goodbye reluctantly and Jazz looked livid at being called a child. Soon, they were all out in the hallway, leaving me by myself.

I painfully remembered the past twenty-four hours. Most of my bodily wounds had healed already, but the emotional ones were still fresh. My thoughts drifted back to where they'd been before I'd passed out. I remembered how my parents had looked when they discovered I'd been telling the truth. They'd been disgusted, they didn't want a filthy ghost for a son. I started to cry again. They didn't care about me. They didn't want me. I gingerly pulled down my sleeve and looked at the scars I'd given myself while in human form. They would take a normal amount of time to heal. I wondered if Sam or Vlad had seen my scars, and if they had, why hadn't they said anything? Probably because they didn't care enough, I thought, now thoroughly depressed.

I wished that my parents had killed me.

As soon as I thought that, I scolded myself for being so ungrateful. Then again, I had been so sick of everything lately, so tired...

I looked around for something sharp. I needed relief again.

I spotted a pocketknife on Sam's dresser, and I hobbled out of her bed and over to it. This was so wrong, so wrong, but I needed it so badly. With an unsteady hand, I opened the knife and brought cold steel to pale flesh. Without thinking, I made the first slash. It was almost as if I were in a trance, in a robot-like state where nothing mattered anymore. I dedicated each cut to a different problem. One was for Dash, one for Sam, one for Tucker, one for Gregor, one for Lancer, one for mom, one for dad. None of them cared about me. They'd all be better off without me. I was a constant burden, a disappointment.

I thought about how I'd tried to help Amity Park, and how it always seemed to result in failure. How no one appreciated my efforts, how I didn't matter to the people I gave up my safety for. How worthless I was in their eyes.

I just wanted it all to end.

I transformed into Phantom and phased out of Sam's house. I shot towards the sky at a record-breaking speed, my tears falling like raindrops to the ground. I reached an altitude where I could see everything in Amity Park. Sam's house below me, the Nasty Burger, Casper High, Fenton Works. Everything I'd poured my heart into for so long. One last goodbye, I thought, closing my eyes. It would all be over soon.

Without feeling, I began my descent towards the earth, with no intention of stopping.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: So this is the last chapter! I'm so sad! :( thank you all tons for reading, reviewing, favoriting, etc. You're all amazing. In other news, I'm going to be thinking on ideas for another fanfiction (not a sequel to this one) and some one-shots. And now, I'll shut up and let you get to reading. Oh, and do enjoy!

* * *

I vaguely recalled a red and black blur, and feeling or imagining strong arms wrap around me.

There was a scream, possibly my own. I remembered chills, feeling like I was having hot and cold flashes simultaneously. The image of the ground coming to meet me; coming faster every second. Another scream, a feminine one this time. My name, being cried over and over. Black asphalt, and a burning sensation. Finally, just black.

Then there was white. All around me, everything was white. The bed, the walls, the furniture...the beeping machines I was hooked up to.

The paper wristband on my arm read "Amity Park Hospital" in large font.

I shifted a little in my bed. I noticed Vlad was sitting on a chair in the corner, cradling his head in his hands. When he spoke, it startled me so much I jumped.

"Daniel, when I saved your life, I didn't do it simply so you could attempt to throw it away and I would have to do it again."

So he was the one who had saved me from plummeting to my death.

He looked up at me, and his face shocked me. Lines of worry crisscrossed his brow, and the bags under his eyes were the size of golf balls. He looked like he'd aged ten years since I'd seen him last.

"Why, Daniel? Why did you do it? We've all been eaten alive with worry. In the two days you've been unconscious, your friends have refused to leave this hospital. They think your condition is their fault. Your sister has become an absolute nervous wreck, she never stops crying. Your parents haven't eaten or slept at all, and I can't believe what you've been doing to yourself...on top of all the pain inflicted by others...I just don't understand..." his voice faded away.

"Wait, my parents are here?" I asked, a spark of panic lighting within me.

"Daniel, they know your secret now. They're not going to hunt you anymore," he said, slightly irritated at the fact that I'd ignored everything else he'd said.

The door opened, and my mom walked in followed by my dad.

"We heard voices and-Danny...you're awake..." My father sounded happy enough to see me, but I could hear traces of something else in his tone.

I cowered in one corner of the bed, too weak to move but terrified that they would take me away and hurt me again.

My mom's heartbreak showed plainly on her face as she knelt by my bed and cradled my head in her gentle hand. "Danny...we don't even know what to say, except that we're sorry. We foolishly blinded ourselves to the truth. We didn't want to believe that our own son could be...well, could be part ghost. Now we understand why you wouldn't have wanted to tell us."

My dad chimed in. "But we've stopped deceiving ourselves. We want you to know that we love you, son, no matter what happens, but we understand if you don't want to forgive us. And not just for not believing you when you told us, but for everything we've done in the past that would lead you to start...to start injuring yourself...or to...to try to take your own..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

So they knew, I thought. "I forgive you guys. And I love you too." My soft reply brought weary smiles to faces that hadn't smiled in a very long time.

"So wait, why am I here?" I asked, remembering how I'd tried to kill myself. It all seemed so dramatic in hindsight, almost as if I were looking back on someone else's memories. But they were all right there in my mind, and I knew they'd haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Severe loss of blood from self-inflicted wounds and attempted suicide. They've prescribed you medication for depression until you can get back on your feet," Vlad relayed flatly, avoiding my eyes.

"Wait, the doctors don't know that-"

"No, Daniel, I told them we found you in your room on the floor in a puddle of your own blood. They haven't the slightest idea about your so-called ghostly powers, or that there could be any connection with said powers to your injuries." Vlad answered. It occurred to me that he was trying to feign ignorance about my ghost half, probably to cover up his own. My parents still didn't know his secret, which led me to wonder, where did they think the "Wisconsin Ghost" had taken me?

As if she could read my mind, my mom said, "We searched for you all over town after the Wisconsin Ghost came and took you away and Jazz explained that you'd been telling the truth. Sam and Tucker said they were at her house when he appeared out of nowhere, gave your body up and disappeared without a word. I hate to say it, but we sort of owe him." She paused, embarrassed at admitting the benevolence of a ghost. "Anyways...they said you woke up and seemed to be healing normally, so they let you rest. Then they came back to find you...passed out...from blood loss." she finished, looking away.

So they had lied to my parents, even about the method I'd tried to use to commit suicide. I supposed it was to cover up Vlad's identity and make his ghostly half look better. It would raise questions as to how I'd been rescued if they were informed of the method I'd actually used.

It really was the least I could do to help him, seeing as he flew all the way from Wisconsin just to save me from my parents. I was still curious about one thing, however. "So, when did Vlad get here?" I questioned, wondering what fabrication he'd fooled my parents with.

"I decided to come to Amity Park to pay your family a visit two days ago," Vlad interjected, with a look that dared me to say otherwise. "It appears as if I arrived at the perfect time to give your parents some much-needed moral support."

"Where are Jazz, Sam and Tucker?" I rapidly changed the subject, wanting to avoid the topic of why I was in the hospital.

"They're sitting in the waiting room. They haven't left the hospital since you were checked in." my mom answered.

"I'll go get them!" my dad offered. He seemed to gradually be getting back to his old enthusiastic self, but he still harbored some obvious guilt.

We waited less than a minute before we heard footsteps in the hallway approaching at a rapid pace. Jazz was the first to enter, and she looked even worse than Vlad. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were bloodshot, but her wide grin made up for all of that. She approached my bedside and wrapped me in a tight embrace, whispering, "I'm so glad you're okay, little brother." When she pulled away, her face was tear streaked and I could tell she was doing her best to resist the impulse to attack me with psychological questions.

Tucker came closer to me and looked on the verge of tears himself. "I hope you can forgive me, for not being there for you. I can't even begin to say how sorry I am. I've realized now my mistake...I can't believe I let you get this bad..." he wrung his hands and stared down at them. His guilt was so present, I could taste it.

"Of course I forgive you, Tuck." I told him. "We're best friends. Besides, you and Sam have sacrificed for my ghost hunting time and again. It's only fair I give you a little grace." It was still weird talking about ghost fighting in front of my parents, even though they knew all about it now.

"But you could have been-!" Tucker started to protest, but I cut him off. "Tucker, just accept my forgiveness."

Sam was the only one who hadn't spoken yet. She lingered behind everyone else, unable to meet my gaze.

"Sam?"

She edged closer, still looking at her combat boots, until she was at my side.

"Danny...I'm so ashamed of how I've acted." she said after a long silence. "I can't believe I spent so much time with that jerk Gregor that I ignored my own best friend's cries for help." She sounded angrier now. "He lied about everything, even his name...he never cared about me like you did. You were just trying to protect me, and I was such an idiot to be blinded to that. I...I don't deserve to be your friend." She was thoroughly choked up. This was the first time I'd ever seen her cry. I made a mental note to find Gregor, or whatever his real name was, and give HIM a reason to cry.

I grasped one of her hands with both of mine, and she finally looked at me. After a few tense seconds of staring into her amethystine eyes, sparkling with tears, I pulled her into a hug. There were no words needed to tell her she was forgiven, but I whispered them into her ear anyways.

My mother, who had been building up the courage to speak, finally did so. "Danny, I really hate to question you so soon...but I have to know...what could have driven you to this?" She had finally asked the question that everyone in the room wanted to know the answer to, but no one wanted to be the first to say, for fear of being thought insensitive. Six pairs of eyes watched me intently.

I took a deep breath. "I guess it started with the pressures I usually deal with. Between the schoolwork, the bullying, the ghost fights and the expectations at home, I needed an outlet. I would have turned to my friends, but they seemed to have been distracted lately." At this, Sam and Tucker looked at the ground, wracked with guilt. "It wasn't their fault, though. Everything just kept building up and getting worse, until I finally couldn't hold it in anymore. Then, when you guys caught me...well, we know how that turned out." Now it was my parents' turn to feel ashamed. "It wasn't your fault either, though. You didn't know my secret, and you didn't want to believe me, either. It's okay." I reassured them.

"That doesn't excuse our behavior." That was my dad. "We're going to be a lot more open-minded and less obsessive about ghosts from now on."

"Thank GOD!" Jazz blurted out, earning halfhearted laughter from everyone in the room.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see that Vlad had gotten up from his chair and was now standing behind me. "Daniel, I'm glad you're safe." There was no hint of sarcasm or even his normal smirk of self-satisfaction this time. Only sincerity.

"I hope you know, you've got a big support system from now on," Sam added, and everyone in the room agreed profusely.

I looked around at my family and friends and, for the first time in a long time, I felt cared for. Like I was wanted, like I was loved. All of the stupid things that had mattered so much to me didn't anymore, not with these people around.

Maybe life really was worth living

* * *

AN: Again, in case you didn't catch it the first time, I don't own Danny Phantom. If I did it would still be running and Sam and Danny would have been a couple in more than ONE FREAKING EPISODE.

Ahem, excuse my little rant there. I hope you've enjoyed this fanfic, and I hope it wasn't too difficult to follow, seeing as it is my first. So I think you guys should decide. Should I write more fanfiction, or no? I'll leave you to think on that. Until next time, ciao, babies. ;)


End file.
